“Brrr…” Frannie climbed into the SUV and closed the door, blinking up into the soft daylight rising over the resort across the Sound. “You need a scarf and some gloves.”
“Warm me up,” he told her, leaning into the center, his palm up and fingers catching the cloak, pulling her mouth to his. He let his lips part, his tongue teasing hers into a slow, sensuous kiss. “I feel much better.”
“It’s true…” Frannie settled into the seat and buckled the belt.
“And I have the other things…in my packed goods. I’ll find them when they’re delivered next week,” Donovan headed them toward the bridge and the resort.
“You didn’t have a nightmare last night,” Frannie commented, smiling happily at the palm that reached over and twined with his. She shifted to the side, their hands laying on her lap as he drove.
“I don’t think I had the energy last night for a nightmare,” he admitted with a chuckle.
“You can’t worry each time I get called out, Donovan,” Frannie stared at the hand she held. The hint of a long time scar running the length of his palm next to his thumb. “What happened?” She asked, tracing it with her fingernail.
“Doing dishes as a kid…stuck my hand inside a glass to clean it and it broke,” he reached for the pool of coins he’d filled the center with for the toll bridge, settling his hand back on her lap. “You won’t always have some nut job thinking he has to prove something, Frannie. I understand it’s your job and I also understand how much you love it. That I can adjust to, I promise you that. Just give me a break until this guy is nailed, please.”
“Thank you…”
“So tell me about last night.”
“Mid-wives are like anyone else. We can refuse a client and do, for various reasons. Health being the most prevalent,” Frannie explained. “The young woman last night…I wasn’t at the initial interview, but from what I’ve read and at appointments with her…she chose a mid-wife and natural childbirth because it’s trendy with her friends.”
“That doesn’t sound wise,” Donovan looked over at her, the mass of blond curls pulled from the sides to fall in a light drape on the sides of her face.
“She didn’t listen to the instructions of eating or exercise. She gained way too much weight,” Frannie shook her head. “Her husband was so disengaged…he did not want to be there at all.”
“There are specific exercises?” Donovan had only recently realized how little he knew about something as basic as a birth.
“Hmmm…there are…it gives your vaginal walls strength and endurance. I believe it can also shorten labor time and gives your body a better chance to return to normal quicker,” she continued. “This woman didn’t do anything May had told her. By the time I got there, we could have called for an ambulance and taken her to the hospital, we have an OB that consults for something like this, but she didn’t want to go. The baby wasn’t in any harm…first babies sometimes take a while…” Frannie sighed. She released her seat belt, stopping only when he put his hand up.
“Wait,” Donovan went around to her side and opened the door, his hands on her face. “Always kiss your partner good bye when you part,” he whispered, his mouth down on hers softly.
Frannie peered up into his eyes when he lifted his face. She smiled at him. “Remind me to show you what the exercises I do…can do…” She said with a sexy hint and a wink, slipping past him and running toward the health center, laughing at the expression on his face.
Chapter Fourteen
It was shortly after one when Donovan and Mac were heading back from the cafeteria when they spotted the woman in the distance, back straight against the wall and lap top on her crossed knees.
“Good afternoon, Miss Kendall,” Donovan said as they passed.
“Look…shoes…good afternoon, Mr. Banner,” she responded politely, listening to the laughter as he continued to his office.
Donovan chalked his distraction on his male chromosomes. Dinner seemed to go on longer than usual and it didn’t help that Frannie’s bare foot was stroking along his calf beneath the table.
When he finally got her alone, clothes went flying and the sweet blonde was lying contentedly in his arms a long time later. She had spent several very erotic minutes showing him just what her muscles could do before he couldn’t take it any longer, their breathing ragged when Frannie melted gracefully onto his chest, his palms holding her hips tightly against him as he thrust upward.
He found his sleep pants before joining her in bed. She had put her pajamas on and was lying on her stomach, feet bent behind her and glasses perched on the edge of her nose. He never noticed that she was left handed until he watched her writing on the notebook in her own brand of shorthand.
“Frannie…I think we should talk about your father…”
“My father? Talk about what, Donovan?” She set her book and glasses on the nightstand, rolling to her side and meeting his stare.
“I…about this, Frannie…”
“Us sleeping together?”
“I don’t think it’s the sleeping he would object to,” Donovan said dryly.
“Donovan…I’ll be thirty-four in a few months…”
“And I’m the only guy you’ve ever had in your bed,” he interrupted, his palm out and snaking around her waist, pulling her against him.
“That just means you’re the only man I ever wanted in my bed,” she told him with a husky whisper, her palms caressing over his chest. “You told my father you wanted to court me…I think he figured out how it would end if you were successful, Donovan.”
“Was I successful, Frannie?” His body began to react to her.
“I’ve never been courted before. I’m not sure what it entails,” she admitted.
“Hmm…I probably missed a few steps along the way…”
“Oh…I don’t think so…we’ve had lots of dinners and dancing…we play games together…we talk,” she brought her hand to his forehead, brushing the short flock of blond with her fingers. “I believe you were successful, Donovan.” She put her mouth over his, showing him just how successful he’d been.
****
They arrived home shortly after noon on Friday with Frannie bustling about helping Nancy with the dinner plans. Donovan went to the tower and changed into jeans and a comfortable jersey. He wasn’t sure how, but all his clothing had been moved from the guest room to the tower and neatly hung up or put into a newly installed chest of drawers.
He had his computer set up on the large desk in Frannie’s office, reading through the stack of applications he’d brought home with him. She told him to keep out of the way and brought him a hot cup of tea an hour later. He snagged her around the middle and pulled her onto his lap, the chair creaking in complaint.
“You’re working,” she accused mildly.
“I am…I do that sometimes at home…”
“Well, company will be here in a few hours,” she kissed him and jumped to her feet, leaving him to his work.
Donovan closed down the computer and dropped the stack of applications into his brief case when he heard the doorbell sound. He was striding down the corridor when the voices reached him, his mind refusing to acknowledge what he heard.
“Frannie, this is gorgeous! When you said old fashioned, you truly meant it,” Frida exclaimed excitedly, gazing around the ornate entry way.
“I blame grandparents, but I really love it,” Frannie told her.
“Donovan!” Frida rushed forward, hugging her son tightly. “Why didn’t you tell us you were living in the area?”
“I was working toward that, mom…Dad…” he answered, looking from his mother to his father. “What’d you do to your hair? It looks…”
“Beautiful?” Frannie suggested with a smile.
“Beautiful…” Donovan repeated.
“Didn’t Frannie tell you? We went out on Sunday and she introduced me to the most wonderful hair stylist!”
“There seems to be a few things missing from Frannie�
��s conversations the last few days,” he said cautiously, glaring at the beaming blonde.
“I sent you the photo,” she said thoughtfully. “About two minutes ago,” she kept a straight face when Mitch and Frida laughed. “Father! Please…I’d like you to meet Frida and Mitch Banner, my father, Alister Reed.”
“Your parents? Excellent!” Alister Reed came into the foyer, palms out to greet them warmly. “I was wondering who the mystery guests were! I’m so glad to finally meet you. Please, come in and sit and we can talk over dinner.”
“Excuse us a minute,” Donovan said, trying not to clench his teeth. “I need a few minutes with Frannie.”
“That would be a bad idea,” she said with a slight shake of her head, eyes wide when he snagged her by the waist and held her in place. “However…I’ll be right in…please, help yourself. We’ve set up a nice buffet for dinner.”
Donovan closed the doors to the large dining area.
“Frannie…”
“I needed someone to talk to…so after class, I found their address and went to their home. And…then I had my hair appointment and your mom said she usually threatens her hair a couple times a week, so she went with me,” she peeked up through her lashes at him. “She said it was a bad idea to try and fix you up with one of my friends,” she added softly. “She said you wouldn’t take well to having your plan altered.”
“She knows me pretty well,” he said quietly, his palm beneath her chin. “You owe me.” He watched the thick, pale lashes blink rapidly, her lips pursed into a tight frown.
“Excuse me?” Frannie studied him cautiously.
“I think you heard me, Frannie. You owe me.”
The tip of her tongue came out to bring some moisture to her lips. “I should have discussed this dinner invitation with you.” She suggested carefully. She watched one of his eye brows arch a little. “Alright…exactly what does this entail?”
“Anything.”
Her eyes widened a little more.
“Anything, Frannie.” He repeated firmly, working to hold his laughter in at her facial expressions.
“Barring corporal punishment,” she murmured tautly, eyeing him warily.
“Deal,” Donovan held his palm out to her, the smaller palm slid into his with a firm shake.
“You drive a difficult negotiation, Mr. Banner,” Frannie opened the door to the dining room.
“Keep that in mind for future indiscretions, Miss Kendall,” Donovan told her striding in behind her.
“Are you two alright?” Frida looked from her son to the petulant frown on Frannie’s face.
“I think we’re fine, mom,” Donovan grinned broadly. “Frannie just agreed to marry me.”
“How wonderful!” Frida was up and around the table, hugging Frannie tightly before turning to her son, her arms around his neck. “You are such a brilliant son. Congratulations.”
“Congratulations, son,” Mitch hugged his son warmly. “Frannie…” he let her step into his arms for the hug. “I hope you’ll be very happy.”
“Francine…” Her father kissed her cheek. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you, both,” Frannie said with a smile that was held tightly in place. “I think it’s time for dinner.”
“Oh…” Donovan lifted her palm before she moved to her seat, a sparkling square diamond set low in a thick white gold band. He brushed his lips over hers. “Don’t cry…” Her head shook rapidly, her gaze on the ring he’d slid onto her finger.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, sinking into the chair next to Frida and showing her the ring.
“Our son has very good taste,” Frida said proudly, accepting the platter of fresh sliced turkey. “This looks so delicious. I’ve been looking forward to this all week long.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t get out to see you both sooner,” Donovan apologized honestly. “I wanted to have a few things in place first.”
“I’ve tried emailing and it was sent back,” Frida told him.
“I’ll get you his new email,” Frannie promised with a nod.
“Well, to be honest he has called me every Sunday,” Frida acknowledged with a smile at her son. “So I knew he was alright.”
“I’ve never seen you blush before,” Frannie teased, staring across the table to him.
“Oh, give Frida time,” Mitch said with a chuckle. “She can go on and on about her son.”
“I think it’s a parents right,” Alister said with a broad smile. “I know I’ve got the smartest daughter in the world.”
“And pink looks so good on your cheeks,” Donovan winked at her and poured wine, offering it around the table.
“Do you make your own dresses? They’re gorgeous,” Frida touched her sleeve lightly.
“I do…I can show you my tower when they have their tea and coffee,” Frannie told her with a bright smile. “I love finding my fabrics and altering the patterns.”
“Frannie began wearing dresses when she was barely five. She saw a photo of Madame Curie wearing a dress with a large white apron,” Alister shook his head, but grinned broadly. “She was evidently quite impressionable.”
Donovan watched the easy way Frannie led the conversations and mingled with both his father and mother. What he liked more, was the way his mother and Frannie leaned together, laughing and giggling like girlfriends. He looked down at her feet when she began clearing the table and shook his head.
He remained seated, listening to his parents talk about winter planting. He’d been tossing his feelings about this after dinner ritual since the first night. The modern side of him said it was from a bygone time and unfair. Yet for Frannie, it felt natural. She kissed her father and left the cart at the table.
“I’ll show Frida my tower then we’ll meet you in the study,” she said happily, stopping at Donovan’s side and kissing his cheek.
Frida had a small frown on her face as she walked with Frannie down the corridor. “That…this is an interesting ritual. Do you always leave them after dinner?”
“We lived in England for several years while I was going to college,” Frannie explained, flipping light switches in her study. “One of the traditions we came away with, was the after dinner tea. Father really enjoys it now that he has Donovan to talk with. I suppose I honestly don’t think about it. I’ve listened to a few people who say it’s archaic and exclusive,” Frannie grinned broadly. “I can set the time limit and they adhere. So I’m not sure who is in charge…”
“It smells so nice in here,” Frida read down the shelves, stopping when Frannie's palm came up. “What?”
“Please…stay here…” Frannie stepped into the hall when she saw the shadow pass her door. “I have my sewing machine upstairs. Let me turn on the lights and make it easier to climb the stairs.”
“Not tonight,” came a growl from the dark, her arm grabbed harshly.
Frannie hit the light switch and made a run toward the back door. A low scream broke from her lips when he raised his hand and grabbed her hair, dragging her toward the door. But at least Frida was left alone.
“We’re going to visit Patsy and have a nice long talk,” he told her gruffly, pulling her through the door to the waiting car. “Inside and make it quick.”
Chapter Fifteen
All three men were on their feet when the scream ripped through the corridors of the old, solid house.
“That was Frannie!” Donovan took off through the door toward the tower, his mother running straight at him and into his arms. “Mom! You alright?”
“Frannie, Donovan! He took Frannie!” Frida cried, her breathing shaky as she peered into her son’s eyes.
“But you’re okay?” He looked her over, his hands on her shoulders tightly.
“I’m okay,” she said with a nod, falling into her husbands arms.
“Call up 9-1-1, Alister. Tell them Daniel Greely took Frannie,” Donovan pulled his phone from his pocket. “She left it on…good…”
“He said they were going to visit Pa
tsy, Donovan,” Frida shivered.
“Mom, I love you,” he kissed her and pulled keys from his pocket as he ran. “Stay here. Tell the police he’s going to the resort, Alister!”
Donovan slammed the car in reverse and his phone into the caddy on the dash, his fingers tapping as he drove.
“Cassidy! Greely just snatched Frannie from the house and information said he’s on his way to talk to Patsy,” Donovan waited for the light.
“On it,” she broke the connection and began organizing.
Frannie stared at the hands as she chewed at the knot holding them together. She kicked both feet at the back of the seat in a fit of fury and screamed loudly.
“Shut up, bitch!”
“I hate you. Just so you know. I realize you don’t care, but I had a lovely dinner party planned and you’ve ruined it,” Frannie continued biting at the knots.
“Shut up. I don’t give a shit about you,” he ground. “I want Patsy. And I want you out of her life.”
“Patsy has a new boyfriend. He treats her like a princess,” Frannie informed him loudly, kicking the seat again. “You can’t compete with that.”
She listened to the car accelerate wincing as she was rolled around when he took a turn too fast. She settled against the back seat, pushing herself to sit upright and stare as he drove. Somehow she was lucky enough to get the first knot undone, one fingernail poking and easing into the second knot, making it just loose enough for her teeth to grab it and pull.
Frannie shivered in the cold night, her gaze falling on the slender ring Donovan had slid on her finger. She had to admit, he had some slick moves. She looked into the side mirror, watching the wild way his eyes jumped from obstacle to obstacle as he drove.
“Have you been drinking? Have you considered therapy? An obsession like this…” Frannie missed the back of his hand when he swung his arm behind him, knocking her head into the window.
WindSwept Narrows: #7 Francine Kendall Page 13